More
by thegoodgirldoll
Summary: Christian is thinking over that one little word- the word that seemed so simple a request from her; the word that he couldn't give her, and it haunts him since she's gone. It had always haunted him.


I had always been an incredibly closed man. Emotion wasn't my thing- it had never been. But she had changed that, hadn't she? My heart had been wide open. The space that I had opened to her was left empty now, though. There was a deep wound where her love should be- the love she had admitted she has for me mere minutes before this; before the elevator's doors' closed. And as I stand here, watching the floor numbers slip lower and lower from me, thinking of when the doors closed and I saw her no more: my heart closes. The openness I had reserved for her begins to patch itself; sew itself painfully and slowly back together. There is no healing- only closing. Void of emotion is how I should have remained all along. There's a thick lump in my throat as I stand rooted to my spot in front of the elevator. She's made it to the bottom floor. She isn't returning. Still, I cannot move. I'm stuck to the ground; the cold tile is penetrating the body of my feet and adding to the iciness that's lodged in my heart, freezing over the wound she's left- filling my soul.

I've been unlovable and untouchable all of my life. I've brought woman after woman into this game of emotionless fun- what I _thought _was fun- but it has no pleasure whatsoever. No pleasure for the subs that have fallen into deeper feelings for me. No pleasure for Ana. Ana, who believed I could change; who opened her heart and offered me love. I rejected it. I rejected her because I was frightened. And who was she to think I would ever be enough for her, anyway? Who was she to hold so much faith in me? Ice turned to fire inside of me within a moment's time. She was _wrong. _She had been _oblivious _and _naïve._ She thought she could change me? How _stupid. _I turned on my heel and retreated back to my office. What was there to do but throw myself into work? I had lost many subs. I had lost Ana. But my business? I would never lose that. It allowed me to be in constant, glorious control.

The office is in my sight, but the bathroom is right next to me. Steam rolls in clouds from the inside, wrapping me in her fragrance and thawing the frost inside of me with a happier warmth than the anger I felt in front of the elevator. With a deep inhale of breath, I enter the room. The fragrance attacks my nose and tongue, and I taste her once more. I take a seat on the edge of the bathtub and my eyes catch it: a small box with a roughly torn and quickly scribbled note. I reach out to it hesitantly, knowing that she had touched it- knowing that touching it could be the last contact I have with her ever again. Imaging her fingers against mine electrifies my body. I need her, but she is not here. I open my eyes that I hadn't known I had closed in such pain, and stare at the note- the note that is not her fingers, but holds her handwriting.

_This reminded me of a happy time._

_Thank you._

_Ana_

And it's a glider.

It's a glider that I can build and think about the building that I had been hoping to do with her.

_More._

The word haunts me. It haunted me when she was here. At night when I would hear her beg me not to leave her in her sleep. At night, when she told me she would never leave me, I would tighten my grip around her. I would think of that word- _more_- and I would know that with a man like me, it is near impossible to have _more. _

That's all she had wanted, though. She offered me her innocence, her love, her faith and faithfulness…And all she had wanted was _more. _I was unable to give that to her. Would I forever be unable to give that to her? I fingered the box of the glider in my hands, toying with the tape and slowly sinking to the floor as I opened it with numb fingers. I reached my leg out to kick the door shut and hold her scent in the bathroom. It flooded my senses once more and eager, heavy tears pricked at my eyes. She had bought me a gift. With my money, I could buy how many of these? More than millions. More than a million little toys…Yet she had bought me _one_- only one model- and I was in love with it. Infatuated with her simplicity and kindness, I toyed with the little model and put it together there, sitting on the floor, and breathing in her scent.

It hadn't taken me long, and it had given my mind something to do besides ache as I thought over her and what I could do to make it right. Was there _anything _I could do to make it right? Perhaps right wasn't the word at all. Perhaps _more _was still the word. _More _would always be _the _word; _our _word. With a final deep breath of her flowery, rich scent, I gathered the glider, its box, and her note in my hands and moved to the door. I walked down the hall in silence, blinking back the tears that were more gentle but still begging to escape my eyes. It was futile to hold them back, really, and despite the strength I had always believed I should have- I let them fall. Freely, and softly, they fell down my cheeks and against my lips. They were salty, warm, and bitter. She had always tasted so sweet…She had been so innocent and so ready to begin this start of something _more_ with me.

She loved me.

And if I had to admit it to myself- if she had been standing before me right now- I would say it. I would bring myself to say it out loud that I love her. I would be able to say that I have loved her for quite some time, but I was so unused to the feeling that I didn't know quite what it was…

I would promise her _more._

And I would give her not only _more _of me, but _all _of me.


End file.
